


Effects of regret

by N0n_Dist0rti0n



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9035873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N0n_Dist0rti0n/pseuds/N0n_Dist0rti0n
Summary: Wymack carries out his threat of signing the Foxes up for a marathon. tfcsecretsanta gift for futuristicallygayduck on tumblr.





	

Pain spasmed it's clawed fingers up his thighs. His erratic heart slammed itself against sore ribs. Delicate lungs tightened, painfilled gasps falling from parted lips. He could distantly see Nicky by one of the curbs, a hand clenching at the barricade as he threw up, Aaron doubled over at his side. Or, at least, he thought it was Nicky and Aaron... it was hard to tell between blurred vision and sweaty strands of auburn hair.   
Andrew had vanished the moment Dan and Wymack's eyes had looked away with a gesture that clearly stated 'fuck this'. Matt curled up in a ball on the hard ground, unaware and uncaring of those running and jogging around him. His shoulders were shaking- hysterical sobbing with an undercurrent of laughter, most likely.   
"Move it, Josten!"   
Neil glared through the mounds of people running, jogging, or walking through his line of sight. Wymack stood on the otherside of the barricade, arms folded across his chest and an unimpressed expression. He made a show of tapping his wrist and pointing in the direction that everyone was running in.  
Neil glanced away from Wymack and forward, following the direction of his finger. For the first time in his short life, Neil regretted opening his mouth. Wymack often threatened to sign them up for marathons, but none of them had ever taken him seriously... Well, they hadn't until a few days.   
Personally, Neil blamed the press. The reporter had been subtly bashing Dan and asking personal questions about Neil's past. Nicky had said that making the reporter cry had been going a bit far but Neil had only shrugged, not thinking particulary much of it.   
Until the following day when Wymack had stormed onto the court during practice and gleefully announced having signed them all up for a marathon. He'd informed them that for everytime Neil didn't learn to keep his mouth shut, was another marathon they'd all have to do. Protests rang out immediately, but Wymack just looked at the far wall of the court with the saintly patience of someone knowing that they were about to see vengence unleased. 

"You know the rules, kids," Wymack yelled, "you don't get to stop until you finish!"   
Nicky started a stumbling, lopsided jog, dragging Aaron behind him. He heard vicious threats fall from Aaron's lips and Nicky bemused responses as they went past.   
Neil lightly nudged Matt in the side with the toe of his shoe and offered a hand. Matt grimced but accepted. His once spikey hair was flattened and slicked with copious amounts of sweat, his eyes pain-filled.   
"This is terrible," Matt said, patting Neil's shoulder.   
Neil eyed him as he responded, "This is the worst moment of my life."   
"Where did Andrew go? And couldn't he have taken us with him?"   
Neil sighed through his nose, idly glancing around. He didn't know the answer, hadn't really noticed Andrew had disappeared until Wymack angrily demanded Neil about his whereabouts. "No idea. Where's Dan and the girls?"   
"I think they're ahead of us with his Queenliness"   
"Josten! Boyd!"  
"Yes, Coach!" Neil took a deep, painful breath to prepare himself. He and Matt made eye contact. Resigned to their fate, they began to run. 

Two hours later found Neil stumbling calf-like through the end and at the feet of an unimpressed Andrew. He'd lost Matt when he'd fallen to his knees and began to dry heave. Neil had pressed on after Matt waved him away with a grimce.   
Neil wheezed. Hands rollled off of sweat-slicked skin, legs numb and unfeeling. Sickness began to tug its way into his system and Neil prayed he didn't throw up. "I was thinking of taking up...religion, do you think...Renee would...help?"   
Andrew blew smoke into the humid air as he considered Neil. He looked exactly the same as he had a few hours ago; pale and smooth, immaculate blond hair in it's proper place. He threw the cigarette away and dragged Neil back to his feet. "Not even a higher power could shut you up."   
Neil would have laughed if he hadn't felt like he'd crack a rib, and like his spasming legs would collapse under him like a newborn giraffe. The urge to check he still had legs was sustituted with smiling cheerfully- or he thought it was cheerful, could have just been pain. Neil slid his fingers across Andrew's wrist and lightly squeezed his fingers before letting it drop.   
"Minyard!" Coach Wymack yelled from where he was holding a dying Nicky. He jabbed an accusing finger in their direction and demanded, "You didn't run the marathon!"   
"I don't need to run the marathon, Coach," said Andrew, pulling out his cigarettes. "Neil's company is punishment enough."   
Neil rolled his eyes and offered his hand to Andrew. "Can we leave?"   
Andrew eyed the hand. The long, thin and callused fingers that twitched slightly and the smooth palms leading up to a delicate wrist hidden behind a black band. He raised an eyebrow.  
Neil just smiled. Andrew stared. After a few seconds Andrew eventually caved with a cut off sigh and a rather violent smacking of his hand. It'd become an adored habit over the past few weeks and Neil rather enjoyed the feeling of Andrew's hand in his. Even Andrew's melodramatic tendencies couldn't ruin this for him.   
Neil linked their fingers and lead him in the vague direction of the car, fighting his way through the crowd. "Did you actually do the marathon? Do you know where the car is?"   
"Yes."   
Neil paused. Andrew halted a few steps ahead by their joint hands and begrudingly turned around. "'Yes' to running the marathon or 'yes' to knowing where the car is?"  
A few seconds passed. "The car."   
"Hey, Neil! Andrew! Wait up!" Nicky was slowly making his way towards them with arms tightly wrapped around his middle, a pale looking Aaron loomed behind him with a face full of murder. Kevin wasn't far behind. He had a hand covering his face, the other held outwards in a vain attempt to keep his balance. He'd ran off before the other's with the claim that a marathon should be nothing to those with a team as small as the Foxes. Apparently death and regret was the aftermath of such a bold claim.   
Neil regarded Andrew. "I think you need to go help His Majesty."   
"Queen Idiot can get himself to the car. Move."   
Neil sarcastically saluted but dutifully followed. Andrew was right. It was Kevin's own fault he was such a mess.


End file.
